IS IT REALLY LOVE?

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I knew I would see you tonight, I knew it would hurt just like it did 24 days ago when I broke things off, but I came to the party anyways. I had a date you know, a nice guy we could have a future with was waiting for me on the other end of my phone but I dropped it when I saw you anyway.

I couldn’t bare to utter a word,not with you so close to me,yet so far from my embrace and touch. I managed to crack a joke,well no one was laughing ,your’face grew grimmer ,my friends tried to stop me. I had lost all senses, telling someone elses story but saying your name. The joke was on me.

By the end of the night I was back in your arms, feeling the sharp tender love like it never ended. getting the thrill, regret and shame. The feeling like I dint give  a care for anything else in the world then feeling guilty for taking my chances to a lost course, not giving it to someone else,  one who could be mine, only mine.

We lay in your bed, talking through your sleepy moments as I gazed to the ceiling wide awake, jumping to any sounds that might have been coming from outside the bedroom. What if she came back early today? what if she found me there?…

After leaving your house I felt some type of emptyness, the one you feel when you break up with someone, the one you feel when you have no true friends, I have him though it feels like I shouldnt or as if I have lost him once more.

Why do I feel so much yet am not really sure if its true or just an illusion?,  A well painted fairy tale book,by your lies and our friends to lure me back, or is so real to you too? and if it was why dont you make an effort to show me? I should leave you again, or atleast try.

This time for real.

ONE LAST TIME BEFORE I END IT! (BEING THE OTHER WOMAN)

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ONE LAST TIME BEFORE I END IT! (BEING THE OTHER WOMAN)

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Has it come to the end? is a question  I have been battling with since 1st January of this year, today its on 1st April, three months have  passed now and I haven’t made up my mind on how to handle loosing him.

I knew that he wasn’t mine from the beginning , when I saw those brown sandals and a white bra in his laundry basket, I knew that was marked territory, but I came back to his place over and over, just to convince myself they might have split. They are not married, I said. She is not pregnant at least I hopped but there were no prenatal pills or baby cloths lying around.

His friend (our mutual friend) keeps on saying he is not happy with her ,and with that am comforted I might be the light at the end of His tunnel, I also don’t want to be that light  ,how would I date him knowing his secrets, his cheat codes? He is the kind of guys you just fall in love with. Then he later falls out of love with you  and he starts to cheat  with a bimbo he met at a party, I know this,( I am that bimbo).

I knew it was a risk, a big one when I picked up his call after our first  hook-up.My heart is cursed,I love fast and get hurt so deep. The damage is already done I need to walk away from this bullshit, I keep lying to myself I will recover if they break up and we part ways. but then why would I be the cause of someones heartache? I already am though she once called me I thought it was fun and all but I am too deep now I want to leave. I cant keep waiting for another bombshell to drop. What if they never breakup then what?

I love him so much,more than I care to admit but thank God he doesn’t know it . So today I am going to call him invite him for coffee or for that one last kiss and tell him I found someone. At least I know he will leave me alone, he promised me he would if that day came.

“it always ends badly” they said,bad came I survived  the worst is here and I am out.

BEING THE OTHER WOMAN (SLUT)

THE GUY FROM MY KITCHEN WINDOW

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It was my first week from school and obviously the kitchen duties were mine without debate. My mom had made Ugali the previous night and the pot was abit tidious to clean. Listening to the playlist on my phone made it barerable .Minutes away from doing away with the dishes i saw a figure on the balcony from the apartment right opposite ours. A handsome tall ,body built man stood leaning on the grill, he wore a tight maroon sweater and blue jeans pants making a call , i couldnt help but stare.

He looked straight at me, i blushed and smiled a little but he did not smile back. Call me crazy but i found my hand up waving at the perfect stranger, maybe the heavens had finally heard my plea and found me the man of my dreams, but to my dismay he didnt respond to the wave either, it wasnt until then that i realized he couldnt see me. from the sun glare and dust my kitchen window was a perfect stained glassed window.

I was relieved but sad at the same moment, how would we meet?.

It was like he knew what he was doing to me, for everytime i was doing my kitchen duties he would come to his balcony.

He is a clean freak that i knew, I saw him hang his clothes after every two days and it wasn’t wash and wear for they were not the same set every wash, by then i had turned my ass into a perfect stalker.

Two weeks went by, then one day i see him rush into the balcony with a petite girl wearing a shot denim skirt and a white woolen crop top,she was a typical millennial. They kissed for two minutes and started caressing each other, that stung so deep in my heart and my tongue tasted like broken glasses.

I wanted to shout it out “stop, i can see you”,but i couldnt. It didnt even matter because he didnt even know who i was.

I thought to myself how immoral they were , but it was pretty dark outside, only a stalker like me would have seen them. I wasn’t even doing my kitchen duties that night,  that specific area in the house was now my safe haven where i went to stare at the stars and think, sometimes even get a glance at my perfect stranger future bae.

They didn’t stop, even with my presence which i knew from the beginning wasn’t a threat. They made love right there on his balcony, the girl whoever had nothing on me, her boobs were so tiny i don’t even think she owns a bra and her booty well not that awesome as mine, i told my self.

Putting my self through the torture of seeing another woman  whisk the guy of my dreams and right from under my eyes, at least that was true. I watched them until they were done and as they kissed some more.

They were the first to leave and i was left to collect my broken hopes and a cold sip of mangoe juice, that night i slept knowing that star crossed love is just but fairy tales.

Months went by, i could still see the guy hanging his boxers and laced panties on his hanging line, by now I knew the petite girl was now the girlfriend. One day i saw the girl from the balcony, making a call, it reminded me of the first time i saw the guy of my dreams who was now her man. She wore a baggy grey t-shirt and i could see she had nothing under, her belly was a little protruded. was she pregnant?, she had to be. the last time I saw her, her tummy was a little flat, more flat than mine,something of hers I envied.

I dashed to my room perused through my diary to where I had jotted down  information about the fateful night. It was six months later now, she was six months pregnant.

I was well informed about the baby, dates it was concieved, how, where and the excact hour atleast I thought.

Weeks went by, I could no longer see the guy just the girl, at this time I was getting ready to go work somewhere away from home at least with that I would get someone or something else to obsess over.

When I got back after 5 months, the first stop was at my Kitchen window. I peeped but saw an empty balcony, no clothes, no skyplast , no baby clothes, i had  expected to see some by now she must have given birth, but it was empty and deserted. I went back from time to time for two weeks and nothing seemed to change. In my head I knew they had moved out to a bigger house, for the baby’s sake.

One day as am defrosting chicken to fry later i saw a figure from the balcony in a maroon sweater and a blue jeans pant, same height and body  silhouette, could it be him, what is he doing back here, what did he forget?

Then he turned to face me, it was him,The guy from my Kitchen window. It felt like déjà vu, i lifted my hand to wave knowing he couldn’t see me, but to my surprise he waved back, what was different? how could he see me, then I realized my mom had changed the window panes or cleaned them , he could see me , in a spaghetti top with my perfect boobs cleavage and nipples peeking. For a moment i saw him stare then I realized what had just happened and bent down to hide under my sink, I crawled slowly from the kitchen and went to catch a breath in my room.

I never stayed long in the kitchen anymore,but I saw him from times to times, if he found me in the kitchen he would wave at me or wink, some other times he waved for my mom, we look alike I think he thought it was me, I could hear my mom complain of peeping Tom from the opposite apartments.

So one day am queuing in the supermarket and  hear a tap on my shoulder ,when i turned to see who it was, there stood My guy or rather the new dad , the guy from my kitchen window.

“Hi, are you the girl from my balcony?”, he asked straight forwad.

I Knew what he meant, I knew from that moment this would be awkward. Should I ask about his girlfriend?, the mother of his kid, about the kid?or pretend I din’t know what he was talking about?.

“yes its me” ,was what i managed to say. Stupid, stupid me.

 

 

 

 

BEING THE OTHER WOMAN (SLUT)

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It is  not everyday a woman (girl) will come clean of being the other woman. Its not something someone plans to do or aspire to be, but it happens more than you know. A large percentage of Millennials and the late 90s girls are comfortable being the other women more than they are being the main ones or atleast i  have heard.

Let me not dwell on other peoples experience and tell of my own short comings.

It was up until recently that i came to understand why someone would remain to be the other woman, even with all the standards women set for their significant others or sexual partners.

I am involved in a steamy sexual relation with a guy who has a 2 years old girlfriend. We hooked up sometime back after  they were having issues but now they seem to be going  steady but the situationship with me is still  on.

We talk mostly on chats, erotic conversations which is now known as sexting, pictures, day to day conversations, which leave me more confused than the situation at hand. The sex is mind blowing, a friend of mine says that, forbidden sex is the best kind and to be honest she is right.

I dont even want a guy for myself.

I am an attractive young girl in my early twenties so you can imagine the line of guys who want to be with me, but all am thinking of and all that  i want is that guy, the guy who has a chic.

So am left to having steamy sex and conversations that have to be deleted immediately.

It sucks alot but its fun most of the time

 

NIKI”MAMA”..

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Through the stinking gutters of the slum, John sunk his boots into the mud not worried if he would carry the foul stench with him to work. His daughter needed of him Ksh. 2,200 by mid-day ,it wasn’t her fault to be born poor he would always tell her.But what better way to get her out of that situation than to provide her with necessary weapons to fight this war?.

The ride to Kamukunji today wasn’t that long at least with the new county government the road was a bit smooth .

by around 11.25 Am John had sent his daughter the required amount for her bus fare and registration money to an interview she was supposed to attend in Thika. Talking of Hoax, this madness needs to stop before someone gets really hurt, i almost paid Ksh. 3,000 to an interview with a company that dint even exist.

Back to John, he did not even start to wonder why he had paid for an interview,but prayed that God would see his daughter through it.Thank God for the new technology otherwise it would have cost him more to deliver the cash in person.After a blessing like that John knew he wouldn’t score more cash but stayed at work till late anyways, someday luck comes knocking twice he thought to himself. Having not taken lunch that day  John started walking towards the main road.Today he had accomplished his mission although in his pocket he had only a 50 bob note, that was all he had between him and poverty, well poverty had become his middle name.

He sought to walk for a short distance alongside the main road so that he can pay less bus fare home, this would help him buy dinner for his family.

“50 bob pipu” that’s what the Konkodis were screaming hitting on the sideboards of the busy noisy buses, he pressed on at this time it had started to drizzle, so he had to cover his head with a plastic paper bag full of ‘Mitishamba’ his friend Kamau had gotten him for his stutter.

He had walked a long distance when he heard “30 bob pipu” that was a deal he could negotiate and still have some cash left for Skuma and Kitunguu, at least the stove was full last night the paraffin wouldn’t have burned out during the day, his face lit up a smile as he hopped on the bus.

“buda leta pesa” one of the Konkidis asked him for his fare, he hadn’t even made his way up the stairs.

“nnko nnnnaa mmmbbbaaa” he couldn’t even finish saying his plea when he got shut down.

“tusisumbuane naniii” the Konkodi said in a high tone, with a facial expression that suggested that he had murmured uncooperative passengers before.

John kept on begging, otherwise he would not be able to buy a meal for his family tonight.

“pliiiz nnnllliiippp eee mbbbaaaooo nnkkkiiiimmmaamaaa” he would have stood all the way to ‘pipu’ instead of sitting, sometimes comfort is just but a luxury.

“Ukitaka mama shuka ukamtafute” the Konkodi mocked his stutter and pushed him off the bus that he almost fell off face down,but  life had toughened him he landed safely like a cat.

John was left wondering if he should board the next bus and let his family sleep on an empty stomach again or walk and home have a nice hot meal.